Perhaps It Wasn't Meant To Be
by Octaviah
Summary: (DISCLAIMER: This story contains incest between two brothers.) Sam Winchester just lost everything and is put in a difficult position at the crossroads. What happens when a certain someone he hasn't seen in nearly two years pays a visit? And what happens when Sam starts to discover that his feelings towards this certain someone might be more than they should be?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey people! Yes, this story contains boy/boy action and also incest. If that is not your cup of tea I highly suggest that you move along and not read this story, because it will most likely not be for you. Thanks!**

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No. Fucking. Way.

Sam Winchester had not just failed his course. He had to sit down, afraid to literally pass out if he stood up any longer. He stared down at the papers in his hand, his test, which the teacher had returned to him fifteen minutes ago. It had a big, fat F on it, written in bright red ink. He covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes glued to it. How was this possible?

Stanford was no easy college by any means, and the fact that Sam had even been accepted proved that he was a clever kid. He had always done well in school, had never had any problems with it at all. But the things he had to do, the trouble he had caused his family to get to attend this college had kept him up at night in the beginning, causing him to be exhausted in class and even fall asleep. He hadn't acted like himself in forever. He never paid attention anymore, he never had time for his girlfriend or his friends and he had no motivation left. All the warnings from teachers and his girlfriend eventually breaking up with him had caused him severe depression, as if he wasn't already fucking sad because his life was a reeking pile of shit. This test, which he had failed, was his one chance. His teachers had made it very clear, that if he didn't pass, he was out. And that's exactly what had just happened. Fifteen minutes ago, Sam's entire world fell apart and came crashing down over him… bit by bit.

The air was cool and he subconsciously wrapped one arm around himself as he continued staring at the paper. He was seated on a bench right outside the back entrance, where the building didn't protect him so the wind could freely blow over him. Not that it bothered him much; he had about everything else on his mind right there and then.

A pair of footsteps, which were coming closer, caught his attention, causing him to look up from his test.

"Jess." The name came out like a whisper. Jessica, his ex girlfriend, dressed in a pair of jeans and a Stanford hoodie, her blond hair hanging loose over her shoulders, came walking towards him.

"Hey, Sam." She said, joining him on the bench. "By the look on your face I assume it didn't go so well?"

Sam sighed and shook his head, handing it over to her. She scanned it quickly and nodded, biting her lip with a sigh. "What are you gonna do?" She asked, well aware of the situation with his family, handing the test back.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Stanford was all I had left…"

"Hey, you can't give up, okay?" She gave a soft smile. "You can always reapply next year."

Sam snorted, shaking his head. "They'll never accept me again. They see me as a lost cause."

"You don't know that for sure."

"Why are you even here?" He asked softly, moving a strand of brown hair out of his eyes. "I thought you hated my guts." He joked half-heartedly and smiled sadly.

"I don't hate _you_ , Sam." She admitted, a ghost of smile on her lips. "I hated what you did. That you could barely ever see me and when you did, you just took all your anger and frustration out on me, like I was a human punching bag."

"I'm sorry." He stared down at his hands. "I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry."

She placed a hand on his back. "Listen, we can't turn back time, can we? So let's just forget about it and move on. I already have." She shrugged. "I still care about you, you know?"

He smiled a little. "Thank you."

She just nodded and stood up. "I have to go, Chelsea is waiting for me."

"Of course." He smiled a little.

"You will figure this out, Sam. I know you will." She kissed his forehead before walking off.

He wanted to believe her, but he really didn't.

Sam remained in the same spot for hours, as if someone had glued him to the damn bench. The sun was setting low behind the hills far away and his stomach was rumbling uncomfortably, but he couldn't be bothered to go back inside to eat or even gather his belongings. He didn't want to be seen, he was too ashamed. He was supposed to be smart, it was all he'd ever been and it felt strange and unfamiliar to be known as anything else.

The low roar of a car was getting louder by the second, causing Sam to snap out of his thoughts. He looked up from his hands, seeing two very bright lights of a car coming closer and closer. He frowned, standing up, about to yell that this wasn't a driveway but the words got caught in his throat as he saw the car up close. It was unmistakingly a black 67 Chevrolet Impala, a car he had been driven around in many, many times before. The car stopped right in front of him, the door opened and out stepped…

"Dean?"

Dean Winchester, his older brother by four years, was standing right in front of him. His torn up jeans and brown leather jacket were in need of some serious dry cleaning but his short, blond hair was as it had always been and his piercing, green eyes were looking right at Sam. His full lips parted in a grin, showing off a set of white teeth.

"Hey, Sammy."

It had been almost two years since he'd last seen his big brother. The last time he'd spoken to him they'd been in a huge fight along with their dad, about how Sam wasn't allowed to leave and if he did he were not to come back. Ever.

"This isn't a parking spot." He said dryly. It was probably the last thing he should be saying but it was the only thing that made sense in his currently confused, spinning mind.

Dean snorted, walking up to him. "You know I make my own rules, Sammy."

"It's _Sam_." Sam narrowed his eyes in annoyance, folding his arms over his chest.

"Nope, you'll always be Sammy to me." He smirked confidently, his attitude cocky and as teasing as ever.

"Why are you here, Dean?" Sam asked, shaking his head in confusion.

"Well, you didn't answer your goddamn phone, so what was I supposed to do?"

Sam huffed. "Why should I? You weren't exactly nice to me last time we spoke-"

"Oh come on, Sam!" Dean groaned in frustration. "You weren't exactly a ray of sunshine yourself."

"I wanted this." He pointed at the school. "And you wouldn't allow me to be happy. You took dad's side, just like I always knew you would." Sam hated how hurt his voice came out: he didn't want to give Dean the satisfaction of knowing how much everything had affected him. "I never wanted the life we were living, I was miserable."

Dean ran a hand over his handsome face, sighing deeply. "Listen, Sammy." He said, voice softer. "Dad's… he's been killed. I thought you'd like to know."

Sam's arms dropped to his sides, his jaw going slack. "W-What?"

"It happened nearly three months ago." He shrugged.

"Three months ago?!" Sam yelled, taking a step closer in a threatening manner. "Why the hell didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Like I said:" Dean began in that accusing tone. "You didn't pick up your damn phone!"

"You could've come here sooner!" Sam yelled back. He was taller than his brother now, so as he took another step closer he could really look down on him.

"Are you seriously blaming your own idiocy on me? It wasn't my fault you left in the first place. Perhaps if you'd stayed and had our backs, he would still be alive!"

Sam was the one to throw the first punch, aiming for Dean's jaw and hitting it with such force that Dean, who didn't see it coming, nearly got knocked out from it. He quickly recovered and threw a punch back at Sam and then they were at it. Kicks and punches were thrown and soon enough noses were bleeding, making it hard to breathe. Eventually Sam managed to pin Dean to the ground, his height being a huge advantage though Dean put up a damn good fight.

"How dare you blame dad's death on me?" Sam yelled in Dean's face. "How fucking dare you?"

Dean tried to get Sam off of him but when he couldn't he just sighed and shook his head. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Sam snorted in anger, wiping his bloody nose with his sleeve before getting off his brother. "Just leave, Dean."

"What?" Dean got to his feet as well, stretching his jaw.

"I said leave. I don't want you here."

He was met with silence. Dean didn't say a word; just looked at Sam with a stone hard expression and a certain sadness to his eyes that Sam couldn't bear looking at, so he turned around, his back facing his older brother.

"No."

Dean sounded so sure, so determined. He was not leaving, no way; it was all there, in his tone. Sam turned around, his brows furrowed.

"What? Why the hell not?"

"If I leave, you have to come with me." He said simply.

Sam nearly laughed, staring at his brother in pure disbelief. "Excuse me? No, I don't have to go anywhere with you."

"You're right, you don't. But I'd like you to." Dean shrugged.

"Why?" Sam shook his head. "The last time we spoke you and dad made it very clear that you both hated me, hated me for my choices and for abandoning you. You practically just said that it's my fault dad's dead. Why would you want anything to do with me?"

"I didn't mean that." Dean murmured, staring down at the ground. "I'm just trying to find someone or something to blame, but there is nothing. And I just…" He was struggling to find the right words, he sighed deeply before finally looking up at his brother. "I shouldn't have agreed with dad. I shouldn't have let you go, okay? It's your life and you should get to do what you want…" He shrugged again. "And if this is what you want, then I'll… I'll go."

Dean turned around and began walking back to the car. Sam remained glued to the spot, gritting his teeth as he watched his brother get into the car. Just a second later, he murmured 'fuck it' and ran over to the left side and got into the passenger seat.

"I hate you." Sam said as he put the seatbelt on.

Dean just smirked, started the engine and drove off.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey, sorry for being away, school has been keeping me busy as fuck. But I'm back with another chapter, enjoy!**

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"Where are we going?" Sam asked after what felt like hours of silence. Night had become day and all they had done was drive towards what Sam knew as nowhere. Dean didn't seem to have a destination in mind at all.

Dean shrugged and Sam rolled his eyes, having his suspicions confirmed. "Typical. You never know, you just do stupid things without thinking about the consequences."

"God, do you have to be such a whiny baby, Sam? Can't you just shut your cake hole and let me handle this?" He said, turning on his horrible rock music.

"Oh, hell no." Sam shook his head and lowered the volume. "I'm not listening to your shit music anymore."

Dean looked at him as if he'd grown horns. "This is AC-fucking-DC!"

"So?"

"So?" Dean's eyes widened. "Jesus Christ, Sammy, I can't even look at you."

"Then look at the road, where your eyes _should_ be."

Dean chuckled bitterly, looking back at the road. "You know what I'm mostly amazed by?"

"What?"

"That you left your sweet, precious college to come with me." Dean looked way too satisfied for Sam's liking.

"Don't look too pleased, Dean." Sam sighed, reminded of the horrible truth. "I failed my course so they kicked me out."

"What?" Dean looked genuinely shocked. "You… failed? How?"

Sam only shrugged. They sat in silence for a while, Sam staring out of the window, watching the buildings pass by and blend together to a mush, the only sound coming from the car's engine. Eventually Dean broke the silence.

"You know what makes me feel better when I'm down?"

Sam raised an eyebrow and looked at him. "Alcohol?"

"Yes, but that wasn't what I had in mind this time. I am talking about food." Dean smirked. "When in doubt: eat. That's the motto I've lived by in all my twenty-six years."

"I'm surprise you haven't gotten fat, considering the things you put in your mouth."

"Put in my mouth?" Dean looked over at Sam, his smirk widening. "You wouldn't know what I've had in my mouth, Sammy."

"Okay. Ew." Sam stared at him with wide eyes, feeling slightly disgusted. "TMI, Dean."

Dean threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, Sammy, prude as ever. I thought college had taken the last bit of innocence out of you. But I guess not, huh?"

Sam didn't answer; he just let out a sigh in annoyance. His brother could really be one big pain in the ass most of the time. He went back to staring out the window and didn't complain when Dean put on the horrendous music again, because it replaced the need for conversation in the air with the heavy beat of drums. They kept driving until the first drive through restaurant appeared and Dean ordered them both burgers with fries and then parked in the nearest spot so they could eat.

"You know, I would have been fine with a salad." Sam commented as he unwrapped the greasy burger.

"Place like this doesn't have salads, Sammy." Dean spoke with his mouth full, his cheeks sticking out like a chipmunk. Sam made a disapproving face.

"I'm going to have a heart attack."

"But at least you'll die happy." Dean grinned, swallowing and taking another big bite of his burger.

Sam rolled his eyes and took a bite. The burger was actually quite delicious, but no way he would admit that to Dean, so he made sure to look disgusted as he ate it. Once he was done, his fingers were shiny with grease and salt. He grabbed a napkin and wiped them off, throwing the paper on the car floor after.

"What the hell did you just do?" Dean said, his head turning so fast Sam thought his neck might snap.

"What?"

"Did you just throw a used, disgusting napkin on the floor?" Dean was so serious Sam wanted to laugh.

"Uh, yes?"

"Pick it up." Dean said, pointing at the floor. "PICK IT UP!"

Sam jumped in his seat. "Okay, okay. Jesus, calm down." He leaned down and picked the napkin up, throwing it out the window instead.

"Don't tell me to calm down." Dean was still looking serious. "You do not throw trash in Baby."

"Baby? Is that what you've named the car?"

"Yes." Dean narrowed his eyes. "And I am prepared to kill anybody who leaves a scratch on her, got it?"

"Got it." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Good." His older brother started the engine once more and drove off a little faster, and made slightly rougher turns, than necessary.

"But seriously, Dean, where are we going? Are we just going to drive around forever?"

"No. I was thinking we could crash at a motel, or something, and look for cases." Dean shrugged. "It's what I did with dad after you left and I was thinking of continuing that, the family business, you know?"

"I don't know…" Sam bit his lip. "I haven't been on a hunt in forever. I feel a little rusty."

"You had no problem pinning me to the ground, you giant. You'll be fine. Besides, I got your back."

Sam smiled a little. That was something even he couldn't argue; Dean had indeed always had his back, no matter what (except when he wanted to leave for college). Dean had practically raised him while their father was off on dangerous hunts all over the country. Naturally, it made sense that his older brother didn't want him to leave; being with one another was all they knew. The two brothers had grown extremely close over the years, and, thankfully, being apart for nearly two years didn't seem to have damaged their strong bond. Leaving Dean hadn't been easy, by any means, but it had been necessary for him, though he couldn't deny that being back with his brother felt more like home than college ever did.

They drove for about twenty more minutes until they reached a motel. It was rather deserted and didn't look much for the world, but it would do. They got out of the car and paid for a room, which looked even worse than the outside. It was badly cleaned, the colors were dark and the comforter moth eaten, but it didn't freak either of them out, they were used to living under those types of circumstances. When they were kids, they'd push the beds together because Sam was afraid of the dark, but Sam had a feeling, as he sat down on one of the beds, that Dean wouldn't be too keen on the idea today - not that he had a desire to sleep next to somebody. He hadn't been afraid of the dark in years.

"Fuck, I'm exhausted." Dean groaned, stretching his arms over his head, cracking several bones. "My neck hurts like a bitch."

Sam turned his head, looking at his brother. He felt himself blush for some reason, seeing an inch of Dean's stomach peek out from his shirt when he stretched. He bit his lip, looking away instantly, part of him wondering why the fuck his face was heating up. Was he getting a fever?

"I could help." He offered, standing up. "Sit down." He pointed at the bed, rolling his eyes and patting the bed more forcefully at Dean's hesitant face expression.

"Nah, it's fine, Sammy…"

"Obviously. That's why you're complaining? Come on, I have put your shoulder back in place once, this shouldn't be any different." He shrugged.

"Yeah, except my neck isn't dislocated like my shoulder was." Dean frowned. "I don't trust you with this."

Sam sighed. "Fine." He shrugged. "Sit there with your sore neck, but don't you dare complain in the morning when you can't drive."

That seemed to change something in Dean's mind, he narrowed his eyes and looked between the bed and Sam several times before groaning, taking a seat on it.

"Lay down." Sam said, walking over. "On your stomach."

Dean nodded and did as he was told, for once, lying down on his stomach, resting his forehead on his arms. Sam stared at Dean's t-shirt, realizing it would probably be in the way. _Probably_. Certainly, he could sneak his hands under the collar but for some reason he wanted his brother shirtless. It was a thought he hadn't considered before, perhaps because he had seen Dean shirtless a billion times when they lived together, so there hadn't really been anything to miss. There was now, though, he wondered if his body had changed any: if he'd gotten toner, more defined muscles or perhaps the junk food had given him a softer stomach, either way, Sam was eager to see. A small voice in his head wondered if all brothers wanted to see their siblings halfway naked, or if it was just him.

"You should take off your shirt." Sam said, his voice coming out a little hoarse. He cleared his throat instantly, repeating the statement in a clearer voice. Dean nodded and sat up, grabbing his shirt from behind and sliding it over his head and dropping it onto the floor. Sam felt his breath being caught in his throat as his eyes fell on Dean's now completely bare upper body. He had sure gotten more toned since last time: his stomach had the outlines of abs, his arms looked stronger, his collarbones more prominent and the muscles on his back much more defined than last time he'd seen him, though he couldn't remember paying as much attention to any of this back then. The sane part of him was extremely jealous, wondering how the fuck you stayed that fit while eating as much junk food as his brother did, while the completely – recently discovered – insane part of him wanted to taste every inch of his body and feel the muscles flex under his touch.

"Are you gonna stand there or fucking do something?" Dean asked impatiently as he had laid back down on his stomach. "I'm freezing cold."

"Yes, calm down." Sam murmured, snapping out of his thoughts. He sat down on the edge of the bed, placing his hands on Dean's surprisingly warm skin.

"Wouldn't it be easier if you straddled me?" His brother asked casually. "I don't want a half-assed job."

Sam nodded, even though Dean couldn't see him, and placed his hands on either side of Dean's body, swinging his leg over to the other side, sitting down right on his older brother's ass. His face was completely red, he was sure, and his heart was pounding in his chest. Why was he behaving like this? His hands were shaking for fuck's sake. He shook his head, deciding to ignore his body and focusing on Dean's neck and shoulders. He began massaging his shoulders, working his way down his muscular back. He felt like his fingers were burning, tingling even.

"Ohh fuck, right there, Sammy." Dean all of a sudden moaned out. "Feels so good."

Sam's body reacted in all the wrong ways, all of the feelings seemed to be streaming south and into his cock, which was hardening. He hoped to God Dean couldn't feel anything.

"Here?" He asked, his voice once again rough, as he massaged the same spot on his shoulder.

"Yessss." Dean made that deliciously sexy sound once more.

Sam pressed a little harder, earning more moans from Dean. He was already semi hard, his cock hurting against the tightness from his jeans. He had to bite his lip to avoid thrusting against his brother's perfectly round ass. This was ridiculous, how did anyone get this turned out by their own brother, by anyone, and this fast? Sure, he hadn't had sex in a while but this was almost embarrassing. If only Dean would quit the pornstar sounds he was making, perhaps this would be a little easier.

But Dean didn't stop, he kept moaning and groaning and what the fuck not, making Sam squirm and breathe heavily. Absentmindedly and desperate for some friction, he grinded against Dean's ass, ever so slightly, which sent jolts of pleasure through his body. He couldn't take it anymore, if he didn't stop now he'd end up fully rubbing one out against his older brother, and he wasn't sure what the reaction from the other man would be. So he climbed off of him, murmuring that it was enough.

"Thanks, Sam." Dean said, sitting back up, apparently having not noticed his brother's sexual frustration. "Where are you-"

He was interrupted by Sam slamming the bathroom door shut and locking it behind him. Sam stripped out of his clothes, letting out a soft moan from the feeling of letting his cock free from his tight pants. He turned the shower on and stepped in under it, leaning against the cool tiles as his hand traveled down his stomach and onto his swollen, hard cock. He began stroking himself, building up a fast pace quickly, fucking into his fist. Short, breathy moans were escaping his lips and he had to bite into his free hand to quiet down. He squeezed himself, twisting his hand just right, images of Dean's naked body in his mind. He couldn't help it, it was the only thing he could think about as he thrusted hard into his hand. He thought about standing in front of Dean on all fours, his older brother fucking him so hard he wouldn't be able to stand the next day, while moaning the way he had done just a few minutes before. Sam's moans were coming more frequent and they became more high pitched for each thrust, he had a rushing sound in his ears and his knees were shaking, almost collapsing when he squeezed particularly hard and came all over his hand. He bit down so hard on his fist it hurt to keep from crying out. When the euphoria was over and his eyes opened, reality came back and he slid down to the floor, soaked in water as tears began to stream from his eyes. What was happening to him?

TBC


End file.
